The Fallen
by ESpencer
Summary: Oneshot: Scene in Hunger where Drake throws Diana at the rock. Told from Caine's POV. Dedicated to Piercingemeralds2. Please R&R!


**Author's Note: This is just a ONEshot of the scene where Drake throws Diana at the rock. Told from Caine's POV. Dedicated to Piercingemeralds2 because she gave me the idea._ (_I think this is the scene you were talking about in your review of D for Diana.) Hope everyone enjoys!**

It was heavy. The uranium rod was heavy in a way that made my mind worn out, rather than my muscles. I could feel it in my head. Pulsing, writhing with _**anticipation. **_The gaiphage, waiting to be fed. Hungry in the Dark. Hungry in the Dark. Hungry in the Dark.

"He's going to go after you, Caine," a voice whispered. A familiar voice. Diana. She sounded so sweet, but so far away. Like she was talking to him through a sheet of heavy glass. "Drake will try to kill you," she warned. "You know it's true."

Did I? I couldn't remember exactly. Did Drake want to kill me? Yes; I recalled suddenly. I stopped. Hungry in the Dark! I continued walking. It need to be fed. It was hungry. Hungry in the Dark.

"Do this, and you will die, Caine. Do it, and I'll die." She pleaded. Her voice was so sad. Like she might start crying at any moment. So desperate to find the good in me that was not there. Desperate to find my weakness.

"Stop, Caine."

"Don't do it."

I wanted to answer her, needed to answer her. I couldn't stop now though. Stop and it would be angry. Stop and it would be furious. And hungry.

Drake and Jack were ahead, standing near the body of a new decapitated coyote. Dekka lying motionless on the ground. It appeared that there were pieces of her that were missing. Served her right.

Feed me! It howled. I winced slightly.

"Do it!" Drake cried. His eyes were filled with euphoria and something else. Insanity.

Caine, stop!" Diana yelled. Ordered, almost. Where did she think she could get off ordering me around? _She only wants to help you. _A new voice said. Not the gaiphage. My conscience? Maybe.

I was close enough now. Close enough to launch the spear that would silence the voices in my head. So close, so easy.

"Don't," Diana snarled. "Jack. Jack, you have to stop this."

"No way!" Drake snapped.

"Shut up, you psychotic!" She screamed. "Go die, you filthy, stupid thug!"

Drake's face seemed to dissolve. The giddiness drained out of his eyes, it was replaced by a hard cruelty. I had never seen so much hate evoked in a single look. I knew what would happen before it did. Yet I stood there, silent. My entire life seemed to be racing ahead of me, around me, and I was standing there. Powerless to stop it. Hungry in the Dark.

"Enough," Drake said in a monotone. "I was going to wait. But if it has to be now, let's do it."

Diana was spinning like the Tasmanian devil in Looney Toons before I had even registered the crack of the whip. She stopped after a few feet. She swayed drunkenly, trying to get her footing.

I saw the second strike. It seemed to happen painfully slow, but sickeningly fast. Faster than I had a hope of reacting to. Diana was flying, soaring through the air like a bird.

Or like an angel.

Then she was falling, falling, falling. "Catch her!" I commanded myself, or anyone else who might have been listening. I dropped the uranium. Wheeled my hands toward, but I still wasn't quick enough.

She fell. Her head hit a rock. It made a dull _thunk _that made me sick to my stomach. No.

"No! No!" She wasn't moving. Wasn't moving. Not moving.

"Diana," I sobbed. I didn't no when I had started crying. Didn't really care. I only cared about the fact that the only person I had ever truly cared about, ever truly loved, was lying in a heap on the ground. I had not caught her, and now she was lying on the ground. Broken. There had to be a way. A way to find the pieces that would make her better, make her whole again.

I stared at her, despondent. When I looked at her I didn't see a hairless, sarcastic witch. I only saw Diana. Diana, who despite all of the choices she had made, still had a streak of good in her. A streak of good that she had been trying to make me feel. Even now, even as she lie helpless on the ground, she was beautiful. I had to find the pieces. Had to find the pieces to put her back together.

Far off, so far off that it may as well have been in another world, there were explosions. Drake, wielding a gun. I didn't care if he hit me, not know. I held her for a moment, waiting for her to die. I wondered if she had ever even come close to fathoming how much I loved her.

In the end it did not matter that she was a witch. Or that she was beautiful. Only that I had loved her, not for her looks but for _her_, and that she had not heard me calling. Still did not hear me calling her out of the darkness, out of death, where she would go to be alone for all time. And that I would never find the pieces to put her back together.

**Author's Note: Okay can you say, Depressing Much? This is about the most dismal thing I have ever written. But, I figure that it is from Caine's POV and he seemed pretty disheartened at the time. Piercingemeralds2, I hope this is what you wanted this fic to turn out like. Let me know if you want me to change anything. I realize that I didn't do the entire scene, but I wanted to focus mainly on Caine and Diana, and not bring Sam into it. I was thinking of doing another chapter of this same scene from Diana's POV. Might be kind of interesting. I hope everyone was able to enjoy this, and hopefully none of you go out an commit suicides because of this. Just kidding! (I hope) Please comment and critique. I love to hear your feedback, whether it be good or bad. I also appreciate suggestions for future stories. Thanks, everyone!**

**~E **


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